The TOPS tale: How one man's pet project became a Louisiana sacred cow

If Louisiana Gov. John Bel Edwards' was trying to get people's attention, it sure worked. Late last week, barely a month after being sworn in, the new governor announced that the state's popular TOPS scholarship program might have to be suspended or scaled back if legislators didn't act immediately to fix the state's crushing budget crisis. While some characterized his announcement as so much political grandstanding, the people of Louisiana took notice.

The mere suggestion that the state's budget hole could see TOPS as we know it go the way of Pontchartrain Beach, McKenzie's bakery and other local ain't-there-no-more icons immediately threw local students -- and their tuition-strapped parents -- into an understandable tizzy.

In just more than 25 years, TOPS has gone from a relatively small pet project of an outspoken local education advocate to one of the most popular government programs in the state. On the list of discontinue-at-your-own-peril budget items for state lawmakers, it ranks right up there with the state's all but untouchable homestead exemption law.

In fact, it's been that way almost from the inception of the TOPS program, which started in 1988 on the whim of a visionary oilfield billionaire.

TOPS is an acronym that stands for the Taylor Opportunity Program for Students. In a nutshell, it provides free tuition to Louisiana students at any state-run college or university, providing they graduate from high school with at least a 2.5 grade-point average in core courses, earn a score of 20 or more on the ACT, carry a full college course load and maintain a pre-established college grade-point average. (A 2.3 GPA in the first year and 2.5 in subsequent years.) Students with higher ACT scores and high school GPAs can also earn an additional annual cash award.

The "Taylor" in the name of the program refers to Patrick F. Taylor, a self-made oilfield billionaire who was convinced that the education of the state's children was a key to Louisiana's success.

The problem, as he saw it, was that many children who might have the aptitude to succeed in college and beyond simply didn't consider it because tuition was a financial impossibility for their families. To them, college was for other people.

To Taylor, that was unacceptable.

It was also personal. He wasn't raised a rich child. Looking back years later, the native of Beaumont, Texas, would describe his younger self as "a penniless, scared, scrawny kid."

But after putting in some hard work, that penniless kid earned a high-school scholarship to Houston's Kinkaid School. From there, he would head to Louisiana, where he would attend LSU -- also tuition-free -- and earn a degree in petroleum engineering.

The table was set for his success in the business world. Just as importantly, the seed was planted for his pay-it-forward mentality.

Fast-forward to March 1988, just before the 50-year-old Taylor was set to deliver a motivational speech to at-risk seventh- and eighth-graders at Livingston Middle School in eastern New Orleans. He would give such school speeches often over the years, frequently arriving in a helicopter and sporting diamonds in the hopes of providing an illustration of just how far a good education can take a hard-working student.

"The kids love the helicopter, and I'm shameless," the reliably colorful and charismatic Taylor said in 2004. "Why? Because I want them to listen to me."

On that day, however, Taylor sensed that those Livingston students needed a little extra motivation.

Tests showed they had the aptitude for academic success. Still, they had all failed at least twice and were deemed behavioral problems. Taylor needed to find the right carrot to incentivize them. He decided that carrot would be hope.

"I knew where they were coming from: drugs, crime, failure in school," Taylor said in a 1989 interview with The Times-Picayune. "It would have frustrated them to give the old rah, rah great American Horatio Alger story that if you keep your nose clean and work hard you'll be a Pat Taylor. I lost my nerve. I couldn't make that kind of speech."

While driving to the school that morning, he came up with his idea -- one that would forever change Louisiana's educational landscape. He decided he would tell the students that if they stayed in school and maintained a B average while enrolled in a college preparatory curriculum -- and if they stayed out of trouble -- he would personally see to it that their college tuition was paid for.

The program was an immediate success. "Taylor's Kids," as those 183 students became known, started to buckle down. More importantly, their grades went up.

Within a year, then-Gov. Buddy Roemer was pushing a broader state-funded plan inspired by Taylor's idea. One of the driving forces behind that plan: Pat Taylor, of course.

The front-page obituary of New Orleans oilman and education advocate Patrick Taylor, from The Times-Picayune of Nov. 6, 2004. (File image)Mike Scott, NOLA.com | The Times-Picayune

"I want every kid in Louisiana to look at me and say, 'If that dumb son of a bitch can do it, so can I,' " Taylor said in 2004.

By summer 1989, the state Legislature signed off on what had become known colloquially as "the Taylor plan." Even outside of Louisiana, people were starting to pay attention. CBS newsman Mike Wallace paid a visit to town to profile Taylor and his educational initiative for a segment on "60 Minutes." Other states would move to implement similar plans.

"I didn't realize I was changing the system," Taylor said. "I was making it (college) available. It wasn't before."

Details of the mechanics of the Louisiana plan would be tweaked here and there over the years. Most notably, income caps restricting the program to low-income students were removed in 1997, opening it up to any Louisiana student, rich or poor.

The program would also undergo a few name changes, starting out as the Louisiana College Tuition Plan (LCTP), before being changed to the Tuition Assistance Plan (TAP), then the Tuition Opportunity Program for Students (TOPS). In 2008, in a fitting nod to the plan's founder, it was renamed the Taylor Opportunity Program for Students.

Through all the changes, the upshot was the same: free in-state tuition for those students willing to keep their nose clean and pressed firmly to the grindstone.

Taylor died in November 2004 at the age of 67. But his legacy lives on. There's the Patrick F. Taylor Science & Technology Academy in Westwego. There's Patrick F. Taylor Hall at LSU. There's the Patrick F. Taylor Foundation, which continues his educational mission.

And there is, of course, TOPS. At least, for now.

The plan isn't cheap, as the state Legislature and Gov. Edwards are learning. In order for every student who qualifies for TOPS as it is currently written to receive it next year, lawmakers must find an additional $233 million to fund it.

One can only guess how Taylor -- a staunch Reagan Republican -- would respond to Edwards' proposal. But he reminded people in that 1988 "60 Minutes" piece that, as costly as a free-tuition-for-all plan is, it's a heck of a lot cheaper than the alternative.

"If you have to be cynical, if you can't think about the kids, if you can't acknowledge that our society owes them a chance, then fine," Taylor said. "I'll settle if for you: Educate them or support them. Can we build enough projects? Enough prisons? Can we hire enough policemen? Can we, in fact, support them?"